


Resonance

by subito



Category: Ancient Aliens
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Butt Plugs, Exhibitionism, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 05:55:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13047879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subito/pseuds/subito
Summary: Giorgio and David get into an argument over an artefact and find a mutually beneficial way to resolve it.





	Resonance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chianine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chianine/gifts).



The meeting for the next series of ‘Ancient Aliens’ is going well. They are brainstorming ideas for filming locations and objects to build single episodes around and everyone seems just happy to get back into it after the break they have had. This is, until Giorgio excitedly starts telling them about the one, big idea he has been sitting on all summer.

“So we were travelling around Europe,” he begins telling his story.

There is shuffling in one of the chairs and huffing on the word ‘we’. Giorgio looks around the room in confusion and finds David glaring at him. Not knowing what David could be upset about, Giorgio looks to their producers and continues.

“So we were travelling around Europe,” he shoots a quick glance back at David, who has crossed his arms and sunken into his chair, “and this one day we were having a look around this amazing museum in France.” Giorgio goes through some files on his laptop. “And we came across this.”

He turns the screen so everyone around the table can see the [picture](https://i.imgur.com/4C038fL.png). Giorgio looks at them expectedly and sees the crew exchange bewildered looks with each other. Someone even laughs in disbelief, but no-one says a word.

Eyebrows high and eyes big, Giorgio zooms in on the description the museum provided. “Petits vases,” he reads aloud. “6e dynastie! 2350-2200 av. J-C!”

He almost shouts the numbers at them as though that would make everyone understand the significance. The faces that look back at him show confusion. All faces but one.

“Tiny vases. From the Old Kingdom,” David says matter-of-factly. “Made from alabaster.” He adjusts his glasses. “Interesting.”

“Exactly!” Giorgio’s face lights up. Sarcasm is often lost on him.

“When Erich pointed them out to me-“, he starts, but David interrupts him.

“Erich,“ David sounds exasperated. “Of course, you went with Erich.”

Giorgio turns his head slightly and gives David a half-smile. “Yes, I went with Erich. _He_ chose _me_ so there is no need to be angry with _me_ , David!”

“You know why I-,” David tries to shoot back.

“-why you are jealous?” Giorgio finishes his sentence. “Yes, I do know why. I know his book changed your life. But it changed _all_ of our lives!” He swings his arm around in a semi-circle to drive that point home. If he could, he would form a gesture that includes all of earth, possibly all of the universe as he understands it.

“Erich just happened to choose me,” he states again and hopes they can drop the subject.

“How could any of us forget. You have only mentioned it in every conversation we ever had.” David bites back. He is clearly trying to hold back his anger, but it just keeps pouring out.

“We know he chose you. Everyone, please admire Erich von Däniken’s precious protégé.“

David is not above dragging out the word ‘precious’. Or pronouncing ‘protégé’ as French as possible. He also does not care if he chokes on the ‘ch’ in ‘Erich’ when he imitates Giorgio’s Swiss pronunciation of the name.

“You forgot to add you are also the new ‘real-life Indiana Jones’. Let us not forget that,” David continues and looks around the table. Everyone looks like they would rather be somewhere else.

“Each of us has their time,” Giorgio says into the short silence that follows David’s outburst.

“My time is far from over,” David replies more calmly. “Do you want to know how I know?” David turns the screen of the laptop back to Giorgio. “I know that because every single person in this room can see these,” he stabs the screen with his finger, “for what they are – except you.”

Giorgio wants to laugh, but it comes out a bit strangled. “Please, enlighten me. What are they?”

David faces him fully and punctuates every word, although it does not sound that different to his usual explanations. “They,” he looks Giorgio straight in the eye, “are butt plugs.”

Someone sniggers and David has the pleasure of watching Giorgio flush bright red.

“Butt plugs,” Giorgio repeats a bit helplessly. He looks at the picture, then at David, then back at the picture.

“Butt plugs,” he says again.

“Yes. That is what they are,” David repeats with only so much suppressed glee. “They are butt plugs. And whatever Erich told you they were, well, they are _not_ that. Maybe it is time you-”

“Maybe it is time you shut your mouth,” Giorgio interjects before David can finish that thought. “Maybe-”

“I have had it with you two!” one of the producers shouts.

Neither David nor Giorgio look at her; they are too caught up in trying to glare each other to death.

“I am booking you a flight to France _this evening_ ,” she emphasises the last two words so that David and Giorgio finally look at her.

“You will go there and you will investigate and not kill each other.” She fixes both of them with a stare. “You will work together and resolve this silly argument and bring back something we can build a show around, understood?”

David and Giorgio continue looking at her without saying or doing anything.

“Is that understood?” she asks again.

Finally, she receives two nods and everyone takes this as an opportunity to flee the room.

\-----

The flight to France is hell. There was no non-stop flight available at such a short notice, so it takes them almost twenty-four hours to set foot on French soil. David does not talk to Giorgio for the entire time and Giorgio decides not to help David when he struggles with his hand luggage on each and every one of their connecting flights. He has a lot to think about and, oddly, leaving David to the angry stares of their fellow passengers gives him at least some peace of mind.

They still have not said a word to each other when they arrive at the hotel. It sits in a corner at a large crossroads with cars and trucks stopping at the red lights when Giorgio and David cross the lanes with their luggage. It is not like paint is peeling away from the walls, but it is obviously not a five-star hotel. Even two stars would be generous, Giorgio thinks as they walk to the check-in desk.

He is a bit annoyed when David talks to the clerk in perfect French. Not just because David is clearly showing off; something inside Giorgio is responding to the way David is forming these foreign sounds, how his intonation changes, how the voice somehow seems to use another register. There is this tingly feeling that forms somewhere inside Giorgio, but he does not get much time to dwell on it because they are handed a note from their producer by the clerk:

_This is the only hotel that is reasonably close to the museum and still has a room available. One room. One large bed. No complaints. Apparently, schools are still on autumn break this week. You will just have to suck it up. Resolve your argument and come back with some good research. See you on Monday! Both of you._

Giorgio looks at David, whose face grows equally alarmed.

“She cannot be serious,” David says weakly. Giorgio shakes his head and shrugs, already resigned to his fate.

While David still stares at the note, Giorgio takes the room key and attaches it to his key chain. They walk towards their room through narrow corridors that force one of them to take the lead. David watches the leather strap of the bag dig into Giorgio’s shoulder, how he tries to counter-balance the weight, how his hands are holding onto the keys, how-. David’s thoughts stop when he sees something white dangling from in between the many keys. To a casual observer it might pass as a bullet, but the shape is too familiar to David. It cannot possibly be what David thinks it is.

“Is that,” he points at it with raised eyebrows and does not finish his sentence.

Giorgio looks over his shoulder, looks from David’s face to where his fingers are pointing to and some colour rises in his cheeks. He shushes David and opens the door to their room. Once inside, he awkwardly spreads his key chain out on the table and does not look at David, who is still trying to process what he is seeing.

“Erich gave me an exact replica of his favourite tiny vase,” he gives as an explanation after half a minute of silence.

David pointedly looks at Giorgio and his voice is completely flat when he states, “Erich gave you a butt plug.”

\-----

After unpacking in silence they agree they are both pretty exhausted from travelling. It is already dark outside and if they want to get anything done, they need to at least try to catch up on some sleep.

Two quick showers later, Giorgio switched off the lights and they climb into bed, each of them painstakingly sticking to their side, wrapped up tight in their own blanket.

David has almost fallen asleep when there is a noticeable shift that causes the mattress to squeak in protest.

“David...,” Giorgio whispers into the foggy darkness of the room.

David huffs and hopes Giorgio gets the message. They both really do need their sleep if they want to come out alive and with a job at the end of this.

Giorgio, however, carries on calling David’s name with increasing volume and force. With his nag for annoyance and naïve enthusiasm he often reminds David of a child. The last thing is something he himself is also guilty of, he is aware of that. So he sighs and opens his eyes just as a truck drives by. The lit curtains help him see Giorgio propped up on his side of the bed, hair somehow not flat from the pillow, but instead seeming even more elongated by the shadows.

“What is it?” David finally asks. The pauses between his words also seem exaggerated, even to himself. But then, night-time has always been the time to him when the veil between realities is the thinnest.

Giorgio’s voice cuts into that thought. “I have been thinking about those ‘vases’,” he answers and David can actually see the italics, as if Giorgio had written them into the space between them like some kind of omen.

David braces himself for a continuation of their argument. There is no stopping Giorgio when he gets worked up about something - that much David has learnt over the years. He still tries.

“Can this not wait until tomorrow?”

“I- I wanted to share a theory,” Giorgio says and David shifts from his back onto his side.

“A theory,” David says and rubs his eyes. He wonders if Giorgio does actually sound nervous or if he is imagining it. “Okay, I am listening.”

“Okay,” Giorgio lets out an audible breath and inhales before lining out the thoughts he has mulled over all day.

“We know they aren’t vases.” H lets that hang in the air for a moment, acknowledging he had started to accept that fact.

“Two of the three vases are missing an opening, they are solid. We do not know if something is hidden inside them, but for now we have to assume they are as solid as they appear.”

He waits to see if David has anything to add or complain about. The small, extremely round pile that he assumes is David all tangled up in the sheets does not move or say anything.

“So,” he continues more confidently, “if they are indeed what we suspect them to be, one must assume that because of the material as well as the context they have been found in they had more than one purpose or that their purpose was much less trivial than we assume today.”

David notices Giorgio avoids saying the words ‘butt plug’ again and smiles to himself. He is now honestly interested to see where this might go.

“What if they are not just simple plugs? What if they have just been produced to look like that?” Giorgio asks in a way that betrays how excited he is about his new theory. David can feel that excitement in himself and decides to push.

“Just to look like butt plugs?” David asks back. “Do you really think they have not actually been used exactly as they were intended?”

“I am coming to that!” Giorgio says and raises a hand. David tries to not let his mind linger on the word ‘come’.

“As for their intended purpose: I think they are some kind of communication devices!” Giorgio reveals.

“They are made from alabaster, calcite alabaster. Which comes from stalagmites. We know many caves have been altered, one could also say designed, and tuned to a precise frequency of 110 hz! It induces this feeling of being uplifted, of having an out-of-body experience, of being closer to the Gods.” He lets that sink in for a few seconds before he continues.

“We also know that objects like the Vijayanagara pillars have been made _with the explicit instructions from the Gods_ to tune into the universal frequency. They are made so that humans can call upon the Gods, to communicate or even _summoning_ either spirits or the Gods themselves!”

“So we have evidence from all around the world that these kinds of things have been built by design on large and small scales. That is what we have to test, David! Is it just alabaster or is there more to it? And if they turn out to have strange qualities and display findings that should not be there, we need to figure out how they would have worked!”

Giorgio falls silent again for a second and David feels like the room is buzzing. There is an energy to Giorgio, one that sucks people in. It is radiating from him even in this muddled half-darkness that seems more and more like a strange dream - and David is not unaffected by it. It is easy to get lost, not in the words or the theory, but the voice and excitement. David has always thought about it as some kind of aura Giorgio had been blessed with. As he is listening to Giorgio, David is sure that aura is not immaterial; it is a faint glow he is sure he can not only see, but actually touch.

David lifts his left hand, lets it stretch through the invisible barrier between them and rests it on Giorgio’s right thigh. He feels his own heartbeat in his fingertips and how it connects, practically latches onto the warmth coming from the other body. He unconsciously breathes as shallow as possible - afraid to spook, afraid to break some sort of spell – and waits. But there is no action to suggest his hand is unwelcome, no tensing, no effort to shake it off or brush it away. Instead, he thinks he can feel Giorgio relax slightly for the first time in the last two days.

“I am sure you have a theory about that,” David encourages Giorgio to go on. When Giorgio does not say anything, David clarifies, “About how they might have worked.”

He thinks he can see Giorgio nod, even though he is somewhat distracted by the solid flesh under his fingers.

“I think they may work even better than pillars or sound made by musical instruments. Because the only way they can be used is by being actually in- _corpo_ -rated!” David can imagine Giorgio’s face all too well when he says this.

“What if these work only in combination with the actual biological, human body?” Giorgio asks. “A body _they_ have created! What if it is supposed to not only connect us? What if it is supposed to touch us deep in ourselves, to make us aware perhaps? What if these are the stepping stones to our higher consciousness, to the new age of awareness? What if these are our one true chance at making contact and showing them that we are... ready?”

David can feel Giorgio’s thigh flex at the last word. There is no telling if it was intentional, but he takes it as a sign anyway and slowly moves his fingers in circles.

“I am glad you listen so well,” Giorgio tells David. “When I throw around ideas with Erich-,“ Giorgio stops himself there. Then he covers David’s hand on his thigh with his own.

David sighs. “I am not jealous that he chose you,” he tells Giorgio. “I am jealous of how much you adore him. I thought you knew that.”

It hurts a bit, to say it out loud. It is also a relief. David does not usually subscribe to the idea that there is much difference between words spoken and words formed in one’s mind. And yet, letting his body give sound to those words seems to make them just that much more real.  
He also feels how much of the anger he has carried around for such a long time evaporates.

Giorgio squeezes David’s hand. “I suspected,” he admits, “but I could never be sure.”

David sits up, steadying himself with his hand still on Giorgio’s thigh. He is mirroring Giorgio in posture and bravado.

“So, Mr. Protégé,” David starts to let some of the questions that he has held back for so long come out. His hand wanders higher on Giorgio’s thigh, “Does he actually _protect_ you?”

He lets his other hand glide upwards to the back of Giorgio’s neck. There is a faint shiver and that response gives David the confidence he is getting it right.

“Does he tell you how good you are?” David continues and feels Giorgio press into his touch.

David tries to see Giorgio’s face. It is too dark to make out more than the prominent grey blocks of nose and ears and hair.

“Does he tell you how ridiculous your hair is?” David cannot help but ask.

“You like my hair,” Giorgio says and David, however much he does not want to admit it, knows it is the truth.

His hand wanders higher, up the back of Giorgio’s neck, scratching at the hairline, fingertips digging into the scalp, until all he feels is surprisingly thick hair.

“You know,” David closes his fingers into a fist, “I like it because it just begs to be,” he pauses again for effect as much as to give Giorgio a warning, “pulled,” he stresses and does just that.

This earns David a sharp inhale of breath from Giorgio - so he does it again. Giorgio sounds almost grateful and arches his back in a way David cannot see for all the clothes and absence of light, but he feels it all the same.

David keeps Giorgio’s head bent backwards, tempted to run more than hands down the side of the neck. “How about,” he lets his left hand wander even higher until it reaches the point where his fingers touch Giorgio’s belly, “how about we put your theory to the test? I have a few adjustments I would like to discuss.”

This time, David can feel the eager nodding.

“Go get your key chain and I will have a look around in the drawer here,” he orders and hopes he is not sabotaging his chance at this.

While Giorgio is hastily looking through the pockets of his trousers, David finds some complimentary condoms in the drawer and thanks the heavens for the unrepressed culture of Europe.

The dip in the mattress and the heat from Giorgio’s body against his back tell David he is much, much closer than he had ever dared to hope.

Giorgio lets something fall halfway out of his hand – the butt plug, David is sure - and holds it out to David from behind.

“How do you want to do this?” Giorgio asks and it is all the invitation David needs.

He turns around, his face mere centimetres away from Giorgio’s, and leans in to press his mouth close to Giorgio’s ear.

“I see you are good at following orders. I suggest you get out of these clothes and hand me the ‘tiny vase’,” David tells him.

He can smell the shower gel the hotel provided; when he inhales again just there at the nape of Giorgio’s neck, David can smell what he suspects to be Giorgio and Giorgio alone. He would love to watch Giorgio strip, but for now David is content to know Giorgio is actually following his orders.

“How come you get to keep your clothes on?” Giorgio complains. It comes out a bit muffled because he is pulling his shirt over his head. David is pretty sure he can nevertheless hear a pout that would be spectacular, could he actually see anything other than shadows right now.

“Sssh, just lie down on your front,” David placates him and catches one of Giorgio’s calves, showing him how to place his legs.

“I,” David starts to explain when Giorgio is in the position he intended, “get to keep my clothes on because I am the one testing our theory.”

Giorgio is not sure when it had become their theory, but he cannot bring himself to care because David is running his hands slowly up the back of his legs.

David has to work mostly by touch, even though the faint light from the street gives him enough contours to work with. He lets his fingers dig lightly into the skin of Giorgio’s arse and delights at the clenching of muscles under the soft flesh. Giorgio is not an athlete and David finds he likes the layer of softness just fine.

He gets the tiny vase replica and lets it slowly glide across Giorgio’s legs - down and up and down. He moves it more towards the inner thighs on the next stroke upwards until Giorgio cannot help but opens his legs wider due to sheer want.

David is glad Giorgio is responding so well. If he is that sensitive there, he can only imagine what it will be like for him in the end. It also means they get the best shot at testing the theory – as if David needed any more motivation.

“Like that,” he murmurs and positions himself higher up between Giorgio’s legs, “spread them wider.”

David nudges Giorgio’s legs even further apart with his knees, keeping his hands on Giorgio’s body at all times. He leans forward, his hands coming up Giorgio’s back and sides, spreading his palms. Then David rubs his beard over the part where Giorgio’s arse and thigh meet. This earns him some whimpers and he does it again more slowly. David finds he could happily go on teasing Giorgio for hours. Unfortunately, they do not have that sort of time tonight.

“So _my_ theory goes something like this,” David starts to explain.

Underneath him, he can feel Giorgio grinding his hips into the mattress. He gives him a light slap and Giorgio moans. David clears his throat. His hand is rubbing soothingly over the jiggly flesh.

“The reason they chose to design them as butt plugs is because the anus has so many nerves,” David says. One of his fingers strays and dips into Giorgio’s crack.

“Spread yourself open for me a little bit,” David demands.

Giorgio does not need to be told twice. He spreads his legs even more, tilts his hip and then pulls his cheeks apart with both hands. David strokes a finger down to the hole and draws tiny circles until he can feel how Giorgio reacts and begins to clench. When he reaches the hole and lightly touches it with his fingertip, he marvels at how smooth it feels. Giorgio is breathing heavily and David stops for a second to listen to him before he continues.

“There are so,” he teases the hole again, “so many,” he brings his face closer to his fingers, “nerves.” David breathes the last word and presses his tongue against the sensitive flesh. Giorgio all but screams in a mix of surprise and pleasure.

“Do you feel what I mean?” David asks and the warm breath that ghosts against his skin makes Giorgio moan again.

“You,” Giorgio pants, “you should maybe,” he shudders and tries to hold himself open, “show me again.”

“My pleasure,” David replies. Giorgio does not doubt those words, but he hates how unaffected David sounds, as if he is really only doing this to test out a theory. There is a tiny part of Giorgio’s mind that latches onto exactly that point and does not seem to mind, drawing pleasure from being at the mercy of someone who uses him for their weird experiment and watches him with demanding eyes.

He cannot think too deeply about this because David is kneading his arse while starting to trace the outer ring of Giorgio’s hole again. David is taking his time, doing it over and over, listening to the little whimpers freely escaping Giorgio’s mouth.

Giorgio does not know what to do with himself. He is trying to press his hips into the mattress and his arse against David’s mouth at the same time. David grabs all of the soft flesh above Giorgio’s hips he can get and pins him to the bed.

“All in good time. We are not nearly done,” he chides and pushes a finger against the now wet opening.

Giorgio sucks in a breath and welcomes the intrusion. David is moving his hand in a maddeningly slow rhythm. If David’s normal speech pattern is any indication, there is no use is trying to speed things up, Giorgio thinks. He knows all he can do is go along with whatever pace David sets; this does not stop him from starting to meet David halfway whenever the man’s finger enters him anew.

David can feel how the constant gliding relaxed the muscles significantly; they are still holding onto him tightly, but it is more like a tight embrace and much of the first resistance is gone.

With his free hand he tries to open the condom wrapper. It is an impossible task. David is forced to remove his finger from Giorgio, an act that is met with sounds of protest.

“Give me a second, it will be worth it,” he tells Giorgio as he successfully opens the wrapper.

There was no extra lube in the drawer, but the condom is lubricated enough, David finds. He places it over two of his fingers and repositions himself between Giorgio’s open legs. The experience he has with this is a bit rusty, although he has done it to himself enough times to know what he wants to do.

“I am going to open you up just a bit more,” he informs Giorgio, “and then we will see if this replica is as authentic as they promised you.”

Giorgio immediately grabs onto his own cheeks again and pulls them as much apart as possible. David is pleased and wishes once again he could actually see more than silhouettes, however appealing they may be. He rubs his condom-covered fingers over the hole that is presented to him with such eagerness and appreciates the ease with which they slip inside without almost any pressure.

When Giorgio’s breathing is becoming laboured, David withdraws again and puts the butt plug inside the condom.

“Ready?” he asks Giorgio.

What he receives as an answer sounds like swear words. David then slowly presses the butt plug into Giorgio without another warning.

He can hear Giorgio suck in a breath that turns into low moans the deeper David pushes the butt plug inside.

Just as he finds a steady rhythm the window lights up, brighter and warmer than before.

Giorgio opens his eyes, turns his head and stares at the window open-mouthed.

“Maybe it is working,” David tells him. “Maybe we did actually summon them. Do you think they are watching, Giorgio?”

He can see Giorgio close his eyes and shudder at that.

“Would you like that?” David asks and knows the answer already. “Think about them up there, watching me fuck you with what they provided.”

He works the butt plug inside and lets it sit for a bit. Giorgio sounds desperate and David continues to talk to him without another touch.

“I am sure they can see you, all spread out, welcoming their gift. I am sure they can see how much you are trying, how good you are being.”

At that, he pushes the butt plug down so that it bobs up and down on its own. He can see Giorgio’s hole reacting, can see Giorgio’s face in a grimace of pleasure and he realises how painfully hard he is himself.

“They are studying you, watching your reactions, waiting to see if your body is ready for what is to come” David starts sliding the plug back and forth again, pushing deeper and deeper.

“Maybe they are testing you, wondering how much exactly you are able to take, how deep you can take it.”

“I-,” Giorgio tries to say. Then David hits his prostate and he lets out a cry.

David keeps the butt plug inside Giorgio and moves to the side so he can work the plug and hold up Giorgio’s head by his hair at the same time. He admires the play of faint light and shadows on Giorgio's skin. The lacey part of the curtains is projected onto the area where Giorgio is so needily displaying himself and David is overcome with a certain need of his own. 

“Open your eyes!” David tells him and tugs at his hair for good measure.

“They are watching us use your body.” David locks eyes with Giorgio for a moment. David is working the plug and suddenly pushes it over Giorgio’s prostate again. He turns his head at this and forces Giorgio to look at the light.

“They are watching...” David sounds a bit breathless himself. The plug slides over Giorgio’s prostate once more.

“They are watching to see if you are worthy of their knowledge.” David says and when he pushes the butt plug over Giorgio’s prostate this time, it is too much.

Giorgio comes with a loud cry. His body is convulsing and David eases the hold on Giorgio’s hair. There is a ringing in his ears, followed by a complete silence. He is aware of his chest rising and falling. When both their panting slows down, the golden glow from the light vanishes and the room returns to its nightly state of greys.

“So much for our theory,” David says and lets the condom with the butt plug inside glide to the floor. “It is a promising start.”

“The replica is not made from alabaster,” Giorgio says, sounding like it takes a lot of effort for him to speak. “Whatever material it is, it did not touch me, did not come into contact with me directly. We need to find out-“

“You are proposing we do this again?” David interjects and hopes he does not sound too hopeful.

“Of course!” Giorgio says immediately. “Building on your theory, I think it is possible that it needs an added element of... vocality!”

David thinks Giorgio is just making up words again, however, he also thinks he agrees with what Giorgio is saying.

“Is it possible what we need is a combination of the right material, the right way to use it _and_ the right words? What if-,“ Giorgio thinks for a second, “what if all those sacred words around the world help with that?! What if it is ‘aum’?”

“How exactly would that work?” David does not want to sound doubtful, but he is still hard and, thus, a bit distracted.

“One of the butt plugs at the museum had an opening,” Giorgio muses. “But even the seemingly more solid ones... What if you speak into them while using them? The talking and humming... all the vibrations that will cause. You know water has a memory. Maybe it tunes our cells, gets us ready like that. Every cell in your body. Humming and vibrating.. can you imagine?”

David _can_ imagine and stops Giorgio's rambling with a light touch.

“Maybe you want to work on that humming a bit,” David suggests and his fingers find their way into Giorgio’s hair again. To drive home the meaning, he takes Giorgio’s hand and guides it to his where Giorgio can feel the erection through David’s pants.

“It is a good theory,” David says as he pushes Giorgio’s head towards his crotch. “But you know we cannot actually use any of this, right?”

“We will edit around it. I am sure it will still resonate with our viewers,” Giorgio laughs and David cannot help but chuckle along.


End file.
